Gentlema first. Mr Lilly and Maud stood at the door to
see him leave, and I watched from her window. She shook his
O hand and he made her a bow. Therap took him off, to the
station at Marlow. He sat with folded arms, his hat put back, his
face our way, his eyes now on hers, now on mine.
There goes the Devil, I thought.
He made no sort of sign. He did not o. He had gone over his plans with us and we had them by heart. He was to travel three miles by the train, then wait. We were to keep to Mauds parlour till midnight, then go. He was to meet us at the river when the clock struck the half.
That day passed just like all the old ones. Maud went to her uncle, as she had used to do, and I went slowly about her rooms, looking over her things—only this time, of course, I was looking out for what we ought to take. We sat at lunch. We walked in the park, to the ice-house, the graves, and the river. It was the final time we
would do it, yet things looked the same as they always had. It was us who had ged. We walked, not speaking. Now and then our skirts came together—and once, our hands—aarted apart, as if stung; but if, like me, she coloured, I dont know, for I didnt look at her. Ba her room she stood still, like a statue. Only now and then I heard her sigh. I sat at her table with her box full of brooches and rings and a saucer of vinegar, shining up the stones. I would rather do that, I thought, than nothing. Once she came to look. Then she moved away, wiping her eyes. She said the vinegar made them sting. It made miing, too.
Then came the evening. She went to her dinner, and I went to mine. Downstairs i, everyone was gloomy.
Dohe same, now Mr Rivers has gohey said.
Mrs Cakebreads face was dark as thunder. When Margaret let a spoon drop, she hit her with a ladle and made her scream. And then, no sooner had we started our dihan Charles burst out g at the table, and had to run from the kit wiping snot from his .
Heve took it very hard, said one of the parlourmaids. Had his heart set on going to London as Mr Riverss man.
You get back here! called Mr Way, standing up, his powder flying. Boy ye, fellow like him, Id be ashamed!
But Charles would not e baot for Mr Way nor anyone. He had been takileman his breakfasts, polishing his boots, brushing his fancy coats. Now he should be stuck sharpening knives and shining glasses in the quietest house in England.
He sat oairs a, and hit his head against the banisters. Mr Way went and gave him a beating. We heard the slap of his belt against Charless backside, and yelps.
That put rather a dampener on the meal. We ate it in silence, and when we had finished and Mr Way had e back, his face quite purple and his wig at a tilt, I did not go with him and Mrs Stiles to the pantry to take my pudding. I said I had a head-ache. I almost did. Mrs Stiles looked me over, then looked away.
How poorly you keep, Miss Smith, she said. I should say you must have left your health in London.
But it was nothing to me, what she thought. I should not see her—or Mr Way, or Margaret, or Mrs Cakebread—ever again.
I said Good-night, a upstairs. Maud, of course, was still with her uncle. Until she came I did what lanned, and got together all the gowns and shoes and bits and pieces we had agreed ought to be taken. It was all of it hers. My brown stuff dress I left behind me. I hadnt worn it in more than a month. I put it